Samantha Hayes shouted the last few words, then threw herself into Michael Reynolds’s arms. Michael gently patted her back and soothed her.
“It’s okay.”
“I’m here.”
“I won’t let anyone get in your way while I’m here,” Michael said, even as he tried to calm her. “Claire, do you see how much you’ve pushed someone as fragile as Samantha into this!”
“I suggest you sign this quickly and go tell Samantha this was all a misunderstanding! Otherwise, how will Samantha and her son live their lives?”
I looked at Michael’s confident face. I remember when I first learned my credit card had been stolen, I wondered if something had happened to Michael.
After all, Michael hadn’t been home in a while, constantly claiming he was away on a project. Even on our anniversary, he had only said a cold, “Happy anniversary, honey.”
No gift.
No greetings.
He’d disappeared the entire day.
Now, as I watched Michael standing before me, defending someone else, I realized my worries were unnecessary. So, why should I bother saving Michael’s face? I walked up to Michael, grabbed Samantha Hayes’s hair, and slapped her hard.